Magna Skouris
by Rodlox
Summary: Eamon intervenes in Marco's lovelife. Diana's POV. Sequel to 'Magna Graecia'.


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Title:Magna Skouris.

Author:Rodlox.

Summary:Eamon intervenes.

Rating:T.

POV:Diana.

_Author's note:Eamon Pacella has guest starred in another 4400 fanfic of mine: in the third story of the 'Chat with Ducks' trilogy (http: s 2965545 1 ...in which each space is a / ) This uses slightly different backstory, having no Jordan/Diana history, but Eamon is the same._

Eamon's disability is the opposite from that of Isadore Bell's (who appears in a 4400 fanfic here: http: community. dianamarco 8418.html#cutid1)

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I look around me, seeing the dinosaur skeleton at one end of the museum hall, and the blown-up pictures on the other end of the hall. The museum isn't that crowded right now, which is probably why Marco asked April to ask me to meet him here now_. Though I have no clue why he didn't just call me directly. _ I step to one side when I hear the soft motor sound of a mechanized wheelchair.

..which stops abruptly. "Are you Diana Skouris?" I'm asked, and he sounds only a little like Marco, his voice pronouncing **skouris** and not **skouros** like most do.

"I am," I answer, turning to face him. His legs are covered by a blanket, with broad, well-padded shoes sticking out from the bottom thereof. One arm is canted at what looks to be an extremely painful angle, yet his face doesn't seem to register any hurt. Recalling April's phone call, it hits me why she only said 'Pacella.' "Is your name Pacella?" acting on my hunch.

"It certainly is. Eamon Pacella. Marco's cousin, to complete our little introduction."

"I hope you haven't been waiting long." _There was a bit of a wait for a good parking spot outside._

"A little. My job wasn't made easier by the fact my cousin never described what you looked like."

"He hasn't?" waiting to find out just why you wanted to meet me here.

"He has only praised your brilliance to the stars. Now that I've met you, I see your appearance is on par with your intelligence...would you like to sit down? There's a cafeteria around here..."

I nod, and follow him to a table that he pulls up alongside, facing me. I sit. "So, you know my sister April?"

"Not personally," Eamon says, "but we have a mutual aquaintance. She dated my therapist." _Ah._ "I gave him a call, asked him if he could ask a favor of her...and here you are."_ Six degrees indeed._

Part of Eamon flinches when a troop of kids runs past us, and part of him is as still as a rock. Once they're gone, "That was close," and then tells me, "I'm, I admit, rather fragile."

I look him over. "You look solid to me."

A look of disgust is on his face as he turns to glare at the wall, and the disgust is gone when he looks back at me after a minute. "That, lovely lady, is exactly the problem." I'm about to say 'I don't understand' when he adds, "Marco tells me you used to work at the CDC."

"That's right."

"Then you may not've heard of my affliction, as its not communicable. Are you familiar with fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva?" I shake my head. "When you get hurt, your body replaces the damaged tissues with healthy tissues," he says, sounding like the explanation is rote to him, "whereas my own replaces the damaged tissues with bone." _Ergo his irritation when I said he looked solid_. "Once the process begins, it slowly converts the whole body...over a matter of decades in most cases." He sighs. "I'm terribly sorry. I asked you here to discuss Marco, not me."

"Its okay," I say.

"Much appreciated. Now, you may not be aware of this, but my cousin has feelings for you."

_Theotokos, is he playing matchmaker?_ "I'm aware."

"And he's terrified," Eamon says.

_He is?_ "He is?" Eamon nods. "Of what?" _I've never known Marco to be afraid of anything. Hesitant to cross Dennis, sure, but who wouldn't be?_

"Marco hasn't outright said as much, but I'd bet a finger that its of things...are things serious between the two of you?" and when I don't answer right away, "in that case, its of things continuing as they are."

_We kissed...twice, and hugged before that. I'm honest with myself, it was a hug. Even if it was just to help me through a moment, it was a hug, no question about that. And we kissed. Quite a kisser he is. Though, why doesn't Marco want to see where this could go?_ I ask Eamon that as best I can word it. "For one, genetics. The both of us carry the genes for FOP, its just recessive in him." Looking me right in the eyes, "He doesn't like rolling the dice."

_Given how many times he's risked his job for me, helped me repeatedly... Wait, doesn't that suggest Marco wants a relationship?_

"For another," Eamon says, "there's the matter of money."

"Money doesn't matter," I say, and then hear how cliched it sounds to my own ears. I open my mouth to say something better, but -

"I understand what you mean, don't worry. Though I didn't say it clearly enough: Marco doesn't have enough money to lavish upon you." I raise an eyebrow. "Or at least he doesn't see himself as having enough. Old tradition in our family, making sure the wife lives in the lap of luxury...so keep in mind that it isn't just Marco who believes that, if he can't support you, then he doesn't deserve you." Eamon's eyes look worried. "You have any family he'd be supporting along with you?"

_Just Maia, and she... Hold on, are you telling me...? _"I can support myself and my daughter. I don't need to be bought and paid for."

"Either you're deliberately misunderstanding this, or you're mocking me." He sighs. "Look, I love the fact that my cousin finally is going out on dates; I approve of you -- both from meeting you, and from everything I've heard; and if there was anywhere I could go, I'd get out of Marco's hair and let you run your fingers through it night and day." _Well, I've already started on having my fingers in his hair, but I don't see... _"I don't see why you'd have to..." and I pause, not wanting to misinterpret what he'd said. "What do you mean, you'd get out of Marco's hair? He's never said a word against you."

"He wouldn't," Eamon agrees. "Even though he spends a good chunk of his paychecks to pay for my medical expenses...doctors, pills, parts for my wheelchair; even gives me the best room in his apartment. So believe me, as much as I..." trailing off, glaring at his immobile right arm, "feel about my condition, I'd gladly give up my good hand," his left hand waving at me, "if that's what it took for him to be happy."_ If he weren't already leaning back against his seat, this is the point where he would. God, I've seen one too many movies._

"You don't have to do that. You shouldn't do that."

"Thank you. I appreciate that. But it changes nothing." Wiggling the fingers of his left hand, letting them return to resting atop the joystick that controls his wheelchair, "If there was anything I could do to get Marco to forget about family precedent and the odds of inheritance, I would...so its up to you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you, radiant one. Your intentions regarding my cousin are entirely honorable, are they not?" I nod. "Then I give you this advice: the next time you see him, kiss him," _No trouble there; _"and propose to him." Lifting his left hand to lift his cap a little, "It was nice talking with you," Eamon says, backing away, his wheelchair making little _beepbeepbeep_ing noises like the crate-movers in supermarkets.

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The End.


End file.
